I put the bop in the bop she bop she bop.

Main menu

Post navigation

The Seven Stages of Preconceiving

Although I have only been whoring my wares, rotisserie WAG on Brownlow Medal turnstile style for a month now (if you’re from the UK, look up our football awards ceremony called the Brownlows where the girlfriends of the players stood on a rotating podium to be judged- classy), I’ve really had my ups and down. I’ve had lots of feelings, you guyz!! Online Mating websites are like having a real relationship with heaps of people, simultaneously but without any of the benefits. So, like being in a long distance relationship then. One polyamorous, sexually unsatifying long-distance relationship. I think in my most honest moments I’d assumed it would go something like this:

Put up profile photo

Whilst filling in profile page details, my inbox would be inundated with offers of marriage and consensual on the car boot sex.

I’d shake my head with demure humility, and continue to fill out this application form of love; all the delicate nuances that makes me me. *spews into someone else’s handbag*

17 days later, when I’d sifted through the final quill written love letter (an hilarious fireman with a penchant for the Pixies and boardgames, I recall) I’d make my decision as to whom I’d write back to.

After all of them immediately reply, I’d go on a series of amazing dates of all shapes and sizes (Flashmobbing in Trafalgar Square, to a quiet night on a boat restaurant in Embankment…of which I’d inevitably have to get off as I spend the night trying to not bring up my slowly undulating meal…he totally understands though. What a(n imaginary) gentleman!

I’d have some casual flings with some, and then a month or two later, realise that the guy I’d been friends with and super attracted to felt the same way, and we hire a Goodies type tandem bike, ride into the sunset and make jokes about how we’ll have to find one of our single friends to come with us next time. *clinks glasses of apple cider, high fives, and makes out*

That’s what I really thought it would be like. It’s not. It’s more like a funeral, or rather the seven stages of grieving in reverse. So I’ve made my own list:

1. Excitement – this is by far the best part of the online mating process. This is the stage filled with hope and possibility; filled with meticulous word choice, so you sound buoyant but “chilled.” Like you might use the phrase “YOLO” in real life, but somehow coming out of your mouth it sounds inspiring. You wonder who will be interested in you and how they feel about a girl with IBS (that’s second date talk, though.)

2. Obsession – this is the part where you try not to act like a stalker. Except you are. All the time. That’s what this is designed for. To trawl the pages of endless strangers’ profiles. Telling your friends that you’re being really open minded about the process, but in reality judging everyone on there like you’re a pageant Mum from Toddlers and Tiaras. (See my first blog entry). You can see who has visited your page, they can see when you have visited theirs, which makes it all the more painful when your messages have been opened but not replied to. Cue: Bridesmaids on DVD and a 3 Meat & Rice Curry Combo…in bed. The most humiliating part of course is the Rogan Josh stains on the pillow the next morning.

3. Confusion – this is the part where you slowly figure out the reality of what you’ve signed up for. Oh cool! The same old shit! Except it’s costs money! Yayser! That sounds like a sweeeeeet deal. Next month I’ve decided to get creative and instead of investing in a dating website I’m just going to start making accessories out of my cash. A broach made out of soldered £1 coins. A shawl weaved out of £20 notes and rejection. It’s the rejection that makes them stick good.

4. Depression – this is part where you invent time travel and revisit your piece of shit teenage self. It’s like an episode of “This is Your Life!” I walk in and see all my old friends:

“Oh my god! Anxiety? Sexual insecurity? Is that you? Wow, you haven’t changed a bit. And don’t tell me…is that? Yup, it’s the Importance of looking like others fairy, even though I’ve got a nose like a Commedia Dellarte mask (quote from an ex-boyfriend). You guys! I didn’t even know you were still around. Let’s have a reunion. I just wish my old friend alcoholism could be here as well.”

5. Anger – This is where you listen to a LOT of Destiny’s Child. You start swearing at your laptop screen and giving it a bit of “I don’t need you anyway.” Like you’ve been cheated on. By a photo. On a computer.

I’d look at profiles I’d *liked* and they hadn’t *liked* back. Or worse– I’d *liked*, they’d *liked* back, I’d sent a message, they never messaged back. OR WORSE mid conversation (like 4-17 messages back and forth) and then they stop. Inexplicably. Out of the blue. You scour your messages in case you’d written the words “fundamentalist doucher” or “massive Nickleback fan.” Or the absolute worst; the guys that are interested in you. Because they’re usually the ones who say the weirdest shit. I don’t know if it’s just me, but it seems that 98% of the dudes actually interested in me write things that makes me wonder if they have a child lock on their keyboard, whether they’re allowed to have furniture with sharp edges, or if they have ever worn an adult nappy just because “it seems logical.”

6. Stoical Perseverance – this is the part where you stop acting like you’re on Maury Povich and realise that there are no short answers. That the right person will come along, when they’re meant to, if they’re meant to at all. And then you have an Oprah moment, and you pretend you’re talking to Gayle. That you are an awesome person, with a reasonable body; you’re lots of fun, and just as stupid. And realistically, that you’re quite happy being single. So you just keep plodding on on the ole’ website and if something happens cool. If not…

7. Start a blog.

IF YOU’RE GOING TO BE AT EDINBURGH FRINGE FESTIVAL, FEEL FREE TO MAKE A DONATION TO MY CHARITY* HERE. IN RETURN I WILL TELL JOKES FOR AN HOUR.